


Taste of Luxury

by Salamandriod



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Assassin AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salamandriod/pseuds/Salamandriod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian takes on what is supposed to be an easy job, but things don't always work out as he plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Luxury

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a post of Assassin AUs by caleb-loves-me, specifically “All my Intel said you wouldn’t be back from your trip but you just walked in on me using your flat as a sniper nest uh oh” AU. Really the entire post is mormor to the point where most of them aren't even really AUs for these two nerds. Expect more written from the prompts on that post because they're all pretty great.

Sebastian wouldn’t have taken the job if he hadn’t needed the money. He was the best damn sniper on this side of the Atlantic, if not the world. He shouldn’t have needed to take on such mundane hits like this one. Unfortunately all of the hits that gave him any excitement at all had been few and far between for the past few months, and now he needed some quick cash to pay for his rent.

 

All he had to do was take out some rival of this small time businessman, he didn’t even bother to remember his name. The only thing difficult about the hit was that it was in a residential area, which meant more people around to see and possibly hear his shot. The only place he’d really manage to make a shot from was an apartment building a bit aways.

 

Fortune seemed to smile upon Sebastian, though, as his research quickly showed that the man who lived in the penthouse was away on some kind of trip, and would continue to be away for at least a week. He smirked to himself, pleased that he could spend at least a few hours pretending to live in luxury.

 

Sebastian found himself standing outside of the apartment building when the day for the hit finally arrived, gun case slung across his back as he looked up. It was a big building, one that he would have enjoyed if he didn’t need to lay low most of the time. He huffed softly and dispelled the thought, heading inside and up the stairs.

 

There was quite a bit more security than he had anticipated, slowing him down on his way to the penthouse, but with a few well-placed lights and a couple frantic calls to some of his associates, Sebastian managed to get through. Picking the lock was easy enough, and before he knew it he was stepping into an almost overly-luxurious flat. It reminded him a bit of his childhood home, the mansion decorated with near priceless pieces of art. He should have hated the place for reminding him of that, but it wasn’t decorated in quite the same style, so he gave it a pass. He poked around the flat for a few minutes, mostly looking through the owner’s liquor cabinet to see if there was anything worth snatching on his way out.

 

As much as Sebastian would have liked too, he couldn’t spend all day relaxing in a stranger’s house. He moved quickly and efficiently to a window with a direct line of sight to the building his target was in, cracking it open and setting up his gun. It took him almost no time at all to have everything set up just how he liked it, and he still had a good few minutes until his target was supposed to appear.

 

He checked over his gun once more, just to be sure, then let his mind wander, thinking about how nice being inside for a job was.

 

_Click!_

Sebastian was brought back to his senses by the telltale sound of a gun safety being click off. Immediately his whole body tensed, preparing to leap up and fight off whoever had found him.

 

“If you even dare move a muscle then I’ll shoot. I’d hate to have to replace the carpet, you know,” said the voice behind him, Irish accent lilting through the air.

 

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded sharply. “I take it you’re… Andrew, then, yeah? You own this place? Are you supposed to be out of town?” he grunted, trying to slowly turn his head so that he could see the stranger without getting shot.

 

The man laughed behind Sebastian, making something uneasy settle in his stomach. “You’ve one thing right, this is my flat. You must be Sebastian Moran,” he continued. Sebastian could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and if he didn’t have a gun to his head then he would have turn around and punched the man. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Mr Moran. Though, I must say, I didn’t expect our first meeting to go quite like this.”

 

“Sorry, how do you know who I am?” Sebastian asked a bit incredulously.

 

“I know everything, dear. I’m sure you’ve heard of me, whispers of someone even your employers won’t name. Moriarty.”

 

Sebastian froze at that. He’d heard of Moriarty, yes, but he’d always thought of him as a myth, a name for no one in particular. He certainly never expected to break into the man’s flat.

 

“You should get yourself some better security. Wasn’t terribly hard to get in here, you know,” he retorted, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. If he was going to die here, he wasn’t going to go with his head down. “I could give you a few pointers for that, if you wanted. You’d have to wait until I shoot this guy first, though,” he continued, making a small gesture to his rifle.

 

There was a pause between them as Moriarty seemed to contemplate the offer before he spoke again. “Complete your hit then we’ll talk. I’ve been meaning to get rid of Peterson for ages now,” he ordered. Silence followed the man’s words, not even broken by the sound of a gun’s safety being flicked back on.

 

Sebastian sighed softly, realizing that there was still a gun pointed to his head, then did his best to concentrate on his work. He ignored the man standing behind him with a gun surely pointed to his head, instead focusing on making sure that his gun was pointed at his target’s head. For a few moments, the world around him fell away, leaving just Sebastian, his gun, and the little glimpse of window where his target would appear. It didn’t take long for the man in question to show his head, stepping right into his sights. Sebastian took a breath, squeezed the trigger, then exhaled.

 

He took a moment to grin, admiring the blood splattered against the wall opposite of the window like a morbid painting. His attention was brought back to more pressing matters when he heard Moriarty laugh behind him. Slowly Sebastian took his hands off of his gun and put them into the air to show that he meant no harm, then stood up and turned to face the criminal that so many feared. He had to hide his surprise with just what was waiting behind him, though.

 

Moriarty was tiny, nearly a foot shorter than him and about as skinny as a toothpick. Certainly not what he expected the most feared name in the criminal underworld to look like. The only thing that seemed even close were his eyes, so dark they were nearly black, revealing nothing about the man.

 

“Shut that mouth of yours, you’re going to end up swallowing flies,” he snapped, giving Sebastian a sharp look. “You’re quite efficient, though. Certainly live up to the stories that are told. Most of them, at least.”

 

Sebastian shut his mouth at the order, having hardly realized that he was gaping to begin with. He chuckled a little at the mention of his stories, though. “Oh, I can assure you, the one about the tiger? Utterly true. I have the scars to prove it, if you care to take a look,” he retorted with a wink.

 

Moriarty just glared at him, then rolled his eyes and continued on. “If all of your jobs are as boring as this one, Moran, I can’t imagine you’re having too much fun. I can offer you everything you could ever want. You will, of course, first have to prove your loyalty, and pay for some new security systems for my flat, but that’s not much in the long run, is it?”

 

Sebastian chuckled a little and shook his head. “Not much at all, though I will need to get a few paychecks from you before I manage to pay you back. Not all of my jobs are this boring, but boring tends to pay the bills,” he replied. “And whatever I need to do to prove my loyalty, I’ll do it. I figure you’ll pay better than anyone else, and you’ll have all the fun jobs.”

 

Moriarty smiled at him and at last put the safety on his gun back on and lowered it. “Glad we could make a deal, I’m sure I won’t disappoint, and I’m certain you’ll continue your impeccable work. Pack up your gun and I’ll write out where you should be tomorrow to be introduced to the rest of my company,” he said, giving Sebastian a dismissive wave as he turned around to head down a hallway.

 

“Oh, and don’t you dare even _think_ about stealing my whisky. If you’re good then perhaps we can share it next week, and I can check out those scars you mentioned.”


End file.
